Revelations and Revolutions
by Valerie Phoenixfire
Summary: Wonka visits his father. Reuploaded after months of contemplation.


Revelations and Revolutions

Charlie Bucket was not someone to whom the concept of true winter chill was foreign. After all, throughout the duration of his entire young life, he was very accustomed to his extremely humble living conditions. The Bucket house -- or perhaps, it could be called a makeshift shack -- used to be just barely sufficient enough to shelter the family of seven that lived under its roof. Before a few weeks ago, even the roof was only about half there, and poor Charlie had to endure the bitter chill in his loft-like room that was situated right under the huge rooftop hole. Luckily, since then, the hole had been fixed and the roof reinforced, and the whole house had been fixed up to the point of actually being able to keep the drafts out.

Still, the wind bit at the boy's face and hands as he stood in the snow outside the housing unit that was the lone object within miles. It didn't exactly help that the snowfall just became stronger, its ferocity a paradox as it came in a torrent-like fashion from the steely sky, bearing down upon the young boy like sharp knives thrown at a mouse. The wind added a vicious harmony to the snow, picking up in cycles of powerful gusts, some of which almost knocked Charlie over. The boy made it a point to try his hardest not to budge, because he simply did not want to remove his eyes from that lone house.

The house was Dr. Wilbur Wonka's house and office. Inside, Willy Wonka was reuniting with Dr. Wonka after all their years apart. The father and son were finally reconciling. Just a few minutes ago, Charlie watched as the flustering nervousness melted away into an extremely awkward, yet heartfelt embrace. A few minutes ago, Charlie took in the sight of hundreds of newspaper clippings on the walls and in notebooks collected by Dr. Wonka, who, as Charlie realized, was actually very proud of his son, who not only (according to some of those clippings) boosted the local economy but also kept his teeth in immaculate condition. And only a few minutes ago, as Charlie watched the father and son hug, the boy's eyes met the lilac ones of Willy, who seemed to gaze back at him for a few seconds with what seemed to be a thank-you-for-doing-this kind of look. Charlie wasn't sure, though. He could never be sure what the chocolatier thought, for he realized his spontaneous eccentricity only too well earlier. However, the tiny smile he caught on Willy's face eased most of the fears he had about the encounter. Awkwardness aside, everything seemed to be going all right, and Charlie decided to go outside to give them some time alone and to wait for Willy.

And he waited. And waited.

Soon, snow covered most of his feet as he stood in that one spot. He wondered if perhaps the two of them engaged in conversation, maybe over their respective lives and what the two of them had been missing out upon. If that was the case, Charlie thought, then he'd better get inside before he froze to death. But just as he began to step towards the house--

"CHARLIE!"

The door burst open and a very ecstatic Willy Wonka leapt out of the house and flew down the steps, giggling madly. He seemed to have no trouble fighting the wind gusts and snow as he reached Charlie, his feet weightlessly dancing through the snow. Charlie smiled. Deep inside, he knew that a huge burden was lifted off the chocolatier's shoulders. This, for once, was something regarding Willy Wonka that he was completely sure about.

"Mr. Wonka...how did it go? With your dad?"

Charlie already knew the answer to that, but thought he'd ask anyway. He anticipated that Willy, with his excited panting and jittery movements, would be dying to tell him everything. He paid particular attention to the way Willy's purple gloves rubbed against each other quickly as one would do if one were cold, but that Willy seemed to do out of sheer happiness.

"Oh, it was great, really great! We talked a little about stuff, you know, like our lives and...a-and I told him about you and how you won my contest! Yeah!"

Charlie nodded, smiling. Just as he expected.

"And you know what? He told me that I could come back at any time! To visit him! And you know what else?"

Charlie did admire the way the man talked as if he were a child telling amazing secrets to a parent. He listened intently, adjusting his coat a little.

"He said that he's _really_ proud of me. He always was, you know. He just didn't get a chance...to tell me."

At that moment, Willy looked down, his giddy demeanor suddenly dulled into a surprisingly somber one. Charlie was familiar with the man's swiftly changing demeanors from earlier, but he didn't quite expect this. Still, he waited for him to continue, if he had more to say, of course. Finally, lilac eyes met the boy's eyes once more as they looked up from the snow. Just now did Charlie notice that Willy did not wear his sunglasses. Perhaps he was too excited in the first place to even remember to put them on.

They silently gazed at each other for a few seconds. It felt odd to Charlie, being frozen like this, yet not from the snow or the wind.

Willy squeezed his hands into fists as he always did when he was very nervous. The sound of the latex rubbing against itself was the only other noise besides the wind. The chocolatier opened his mouth as if to say something, but hesitated. He quickly adjusted his top hat as a gust of wind almost blew it off, and then drummed his fingertips together, as if waiting for the opportune moment to continue his thought out loud. Finally, he spoke.

"Uh...d'ya think I shoulda visited him...earlier? You know, like...back...a while ago--earlier. Than now?"

Charlie realized that to Willy, asking a question usually meant expecting an answer as if it were a life or death thing. The boy just sighed, walking a little closer to the man and staring directly into his worried eyes.

"Mr. Wonka, you shouldn't worry about that. Everything went fine, and you know that."

He glanced over at the house, and then back to Willy.

"I saw how you came out of there. You were really happy. I think, Mr. Wonka, that this might have been the first time I saw you truly happy. Not faking it, I mean. Like you smiled for a real reason."

Willy took all of this in, also turning to glance over at the house, and once again back to Charlie. The last thing Charlie said rang in his mind, echoing and cancelling out most of his other thoughts. A revelation took hold of him, gripping him fiercely as he realized that the boy was completely right.

The burden of family problems in Willy's life was finally lifted, and so Willy was finally given a true, deeply genuine reason to grin widely and show off those dazzling teeth back when he pranced out of the house.

And as Willy noticed Charlie's heartfelt smile, he also recognized the real reason he was smiling. The boy was overwhelmingly happy for him.

Just as a violent thunderstorm suddenly vanishes into a fantastically bright glimmer of sunlight through disappearing clouds, Willy's expression lit up, those eyes brightening and his usual grin returning, teeth bright as the snow that made up nearly all of the area surrounding the two people.

"Hey...yeah, you're right, Charlie! I feel great now! Dad saw me again and we talked and it's all there needs to be, huh? And he was happy to see me and I'm happy I saw him, and...and..."

Once again, latex-covered hands rubbed together excitedly.

"And it's all thanks to you, my dear boy, heheh!"

He shot his arm out, hand fully extended and intending to shake Charlie's hand, but Charlie didn't move a muscle. In fact, he was too full of a very pleasant shock and sense of understanding. This man before him, this amazing chocolatier, was finally revealed to be a person of the purest heart, and all previous, negative thoughts Charlie had about him were shattered like glass. What happened today changed the man. The joy in his eyes, his genuine smile, the way he bounced excitedly was just like a child receiving a toy on Christmas. _Just like a child,_ Charlie thought. Willy Wonka was like a child in many ways -- his imagination, creativity, insecurities, and mannerisms. Today, however, Charlie noticed another aspect of that. The way Willy practically clung to his father, an incredible look of fear and anxiety in his face, was just like a child clinging to a parent when he has a nightmare. Charlie remembered at that moment that he was the same way himself when he was younger, because whenever he'd have nightmares, his mother would be the first person he'd run to for comfort. There were nights when he cried for hours, never letting go of his mother as she comforted him to the best of her ability. Suddenly, he wondered if Willy ever woke up from a nightmare with no one to turn to...

His flashback (_so that's what they're like_...) was interrupted by a loud crunchy squeaking of latex as Willy retracted his hand and replaced it back on his candy cane. He was very used to not having his hand shaken, so it wasn't a big deal to him, really. What happened next, however, almost knocked him off his feet.

Charlie was so overjoyed by the intense change in Willy this day that he decided to do better than a handshake. He opened his arms and dove forwards, wrapping them tightly around the chocolatier, pressing him close and completely discarding the fact that the man disliked touch. Willy gasped loudly, which hurt his throat because of the sudden inhalation of frozen air, and his eyes widened. He stood there, arms clamped to his sides from intense shock, staring at Charlie's head and biting his lip almost to the point of breaking the skin. Oh, how he hated hugging. And yet, he only a short while prior to this successfully embraced a man he hadn't seen in almost two decades. He could try again...?

Slowly, he returned the hug, quickly patting Charlie on the back and giggling warily. After a few very tense moments, Charlie let go, knowing that he shouldn't test the man's senses any more than they have been tested today. In a way, Charlie thought, that was good for Willy. Perhaps the beginning of a type of cure...

"You're welcome, Mr. Wonka."

Willy regained his composure and tilted his head to the side.

"Heh...that was--"

"Weird? And unexpected?"

Charlie was not one to forget things that people said while in his company. Willy blinked, realizing what the boy just said. The confused look morphed into the usual grin then, accompanied by the usual gasp that preceded an important statement or inquiry.

"...hey, Charlie! How about another shot at living in the factory, huh?"

Charlie didn't expect this. Yet, he knew exactly what to say.

"On one condition, Mr. Wonka."

Willy's eyes narrowed.

"What's that?"

Charlie's smile never left his face.

"My family has to come, too."

Much to Charlie's surprise, Willy responded far quicker than he thought was possible.

"Well, my dear boy, of _course_ they can come! Know what I'll do? Know what? I'll put your house RIGHT in the middle of the chocolate river room! How about that?"

Charlie now smiled as widely as Willy did.

"That sounds great! Thank you!"

"Sure thing!"

It seemed that Willy's smile stretched the boundaries of physical possibility.

"Hey Mr. Wonka..."

"Yah?"

"When can we move in?"

Willy's cane moved to his other hand and he pointed into the air matter-of-factly.

"Uh, I'd _love_ to talk about this more, dear boy, but it IS snowing. And it's cold. Even with this coat, I'm getting kinda nippy. Oh! How about we discuss this on the way back to the factory or something, kay?"

Charlie nodded, turning towards the glass elevator in the distance. Just as he began to make his way towards it, however, Willy stumbled through the snow to catch up and grabbed his shoulder, whirling him around.

"Oh! Oh! Guess what else my dad said?"

Charlie sighed, not quite knowing what to expect. Willy lowered himself to his level and glanced around from side to side, as if checking to make sure no one else could hear. This amused Charlie, considering that absolutely no one was around for miles other than Dr. Wonka, who was inside a house several hundred feet away.

"He said that he_ actually tried some of my chocolate! MORE THAN ONCE!_"

Willy's eyes were as wide as saucers, and Charlie couldn't help letting a lighthearted laugh escape. The way Willy said it was just so full of intrigue and wonderment, and the fact that it was whispered added absurdity (in a good way, of course) to the statement. Charlie shook his head, sighing, yet still smiling.

"That's fantastic, Mr. Wonka. See? Your dad really loves you."

"Yeah, Charlie. He sure does."

Charlie heard Willy's deep sigh after muttering that, and took this to mean that he was finally at ease. Both of them then continued on towards the glass elevator, and once inside, it was only a matter of seconds until the rocket engines came to a fiery life, sending the contraption up into the air.

From the elevator, the town absolutely glittered with snow and light like a sunset cast upon an ocean. The two people in the elevator watched as the factory continued to busily produce its famous candy, the intense plumes of smoke from the smokestacks being proof. They also watched the tiny shack in the tiny plot of land barely produce a string of smoke from its still-crooked chimney. In the distance, they could also just barely make out the chimney of the one lone house in the snowy field producing smoke.

And neither the chocolatier nor the young boy could be any happier.


End file.
